


404

by howdylikesitbot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen and Zen are not traveling together at this point, Genyatta - Freeform, Making Shit Up About Omnics, Mon and Zen are close, Omnics, Pre-Recall, Probably ooc, can be read as, i love my robot sons, if you'd like, the timeline is probably fucked, un-beta'd we die, voicelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdylikesitbot/pseuds/howdylikesitbot
Summary: One shot of a sniper rifle is all it takes to send the world into grieving. In the wake of King's Row, Genji's mind is on Zenyatta, and he can't help but worry about what Mondatta's death has done to his master.An interpretation of the aftermath of "Alive".
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	404

**Author's Note:**

> Well howdy  
> In case you didn't see the tags, this is meant to be angsty, if I did my job correctly.  
> Enjoy

He felt it. He felt the way his spirit shuddered, the dragon suddenly silent and subdued. 

He almost expected the world to come to a halt around him, every living thing just stopping as he had, feeling the emptiness, the void. It didn’t, and he registered people moving around him, cars humming by, the sounds of a city on the move.

His hands clenched where they were tucked into his jacket’s pockets, forcing one foot to move forward, then the other. He reached for his spirit out of instinct, lost and fumbling, only for it to respond with _sorrow_. Something had happened, something so earth-shattering that the dragon _mourned._

He muttered an apology as he bumped into someone, still moving but unaware of why, or where his body was taking him. His focus was inward, shivering at the cold, though his visor assured him that his body temperature was its usual 96 degrees. The world had been tipped on its head, he was struggling to breathe even with his mask feeding oxygen to him, and his spirit _howled_ through their bond in grief.

\--

Genji blinked when the card reader beeped and flashed, a lock clicking. He had made it back to his hotel room in his stupor, and he hesitated for so long that the lock clicked again. Had he… walked all the way back? He could remember being on the sidewalk, heading for a local store to purchase oil for a deep cleaning of his armor…

And then he had _felt._

Genji pressed the little card to the reader again and pushed his way into the room as soon as it beeped, letting the door slide shut behind him. His feet took him to the low bed and he sat, curling forward and bringing one hand to his helm. His spirit would not — could not? — communicate anything other than _grief_ and _loss,_ and Genji was left floundering in the deep. It was surreal, yet patience did not yield answers. 

Drowning, Genji cleared his throat and ordered the television to turn on. A news report flickered to life, and he watched as the anchors’ mouths moved, watched the footage of chaos in a dark plaza, saw the discarded signs on the cobbled ground and the sorrow and fear as humans and omnics embraced each other.

Emergency lights strobed through the picture, ambulances and police vehicles clustered close to the crowd. The picture turned to an empty limo, one of the doors wide open.

A picture of a single figure was superimposed onto the screen.

Genji forced himself to take a breath even as he slumped, adding his sorrow to the dragon’s call.

\--

It had been an assassination. The leader of the Shambali order, Tekhartha Mondatta, had been giving a speech to a small crowd in King’s Row, an area wracked with anti-omnic sentiment. Security measures had been extensive, yet they had failed. There were reports of two unknown individuals, one being the assassin, the other an enigma.

Genji had watched the shaky footage taken by a phone over and over, watched as the picture blurred and focused to catch the tail-end of an explosion, two forms falling. One disappeared in a flash of blue, and then the video cut before the phone was dropped, then replayed.

Lena. She had been there, of course she had. It was close to home for her, and during the Overwatch years her support for omnics and their rights had been strong. The few seconds of footage were enough for Genji to understand; someone would have died that night, one way or another. 

_It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, Lena, it’s not your fault._

The world was mourning. The news had spread in a blink of the eye, and omnics and humans alike were already holding memorials, giving and receiving love and support. Terror always lurked after events like these, and it would take a while for the dust to settle.

Genji, saddened as he was, only had one thing on his mind. One person.

He clutched his helm in both hands, opening his private network that he used to contact only two individuals. He picked the one he had set on priority and didn’t hesitate to connect, partly-synthetic heart in his throat.

It was silent, empty. Genji waited, hoping, fearing…

What could he say? What should he say? Despite years of companionship, despite knowing him more than he did anyone else, nothing like this had ever happened. There had been loss, of course, but this… this was both unexpected and so much _more._

_“Observe your grief, let yourself feel it. To grieve is to be alive, it is important and necessary, but you mustn’t allow it to overtake you. Reach out if you need to, share memories and feelings. You are not alone…”_

Genji curled inward until his elbows rested on his knees. The connection was a lone, desolate plain that he could not traverse, could only exist in and hope that he would be found…

He was _worried._ The realization was swift and absurd, enough that he couldn’t help but laugh. Worried? He was worried about the most balanced person in the world, one who had helped Genji find _his_ balance? 

Yet he was. He was worried, because a balance could be tipped so easily. It was the unknown; what could happen? What would happen? Even though it had been… even though _he_ was dead, surely…?

Genji closed his eyes behind his visor. His dragon was still recovering from the void that one person had left, so attuned to the Iris through mere exposure. Neither entity could affect the other, but they could interact, could react to changes in the other. Genji cursed their incompatibility, wishing he could reach out, offer support that way.

“ _A disciplined mind is your most dependable ally.”_

Deep breath. Genji let his hands drop, straightening his back. Worrying wouldn’t do anyone any good. He needed to center himself, calm down. He needed to have faith that he would be sought out if his assistance was needed, or even wanted. He would be patient, he’d give himself time to grieve, and…

And he’d keep the connection open. Just in case.

\--

Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days. Genji kept himself busy, going out at least once a day just to get out of his mind. He found the store he’d meant to visit, bought the oil, and spent several hours cleaning each piece of his armor. The mindless work calmed him more than meditation, grounding him with every swipe of the cloth over metal.

When he finished with every plate, Genji hesitated. All that was left was his visor and helm. He hadn’t removed either since that day, and now he found himself worrying again; what if he was contacted while he was cleaning his visor? It would seem like he wasn’t available… what if it had taken this long to be willing to speak, only to find the connection open and no answer forthcoming?

There, but not.

_I’m being unreasonable. He’d know._

Still, Genji kept his misty gaze on the visor as he scrubbed, pressing it to his face several times during the process. Just in case.

\--

Two days later, the connection shifted, clicked. 

Genji snapped out of his meditation, peace and calm gone with one simple action that he could barely feel through his cybernetics. He pressed one hand to the side of his helm out of habit, though he had no comm and did not require one.

_“Master.”_

Silence answered him, though he could feel the other’s presence, knew he was there. Genji swallowed, only just realizing he had shot to his feet. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, taking a breath and using it to relax his posture. He waited.

 _I am sorry,_ was sent through the connection, and Genji wished that he was _there_ , not here-- _Are you well, Genji?_

He sounded… “Master… I believe that is my line.”

A ripple, quiet amusement. _We may have to share. Alas, I asked first._

Damn that calm, damn the space between them. “I am well, Master. I…” Genji swallowed again, unclenching his fist. “I am alright. And you?”

 _Resting,_ and if that didn’t speak volumes…

“Are you somewhere safe?”

_Yes._

“Do… are you planning to go back to the monastery?”

_I do not know. I may. Kanyatta extended an invitation to me, and to you as well. You will be welcomed with open arms, if you wish to return._

Genji sighed to himself. He knew his master. “You won’t go back, will you?”

_I may, but not yet. There are so many suffering, and while the Shambali have each other, many do not have such support._

Genji breathed out. “It’s not your duty to ease everyone’s minds.”

_I know. Still, if I can assist even a few, even one, I would be humbled._

“Please excuse my words, Master, but… who is assisting you?”

He did not answer for a long while, and Genji wanted to curse himself for even asking, but… but the silence was enough to tell him that he _wasn’t_ as alright as he sounded. _I am well, Genji._

“I won’t push you, but please don’t lie to me, Master Zenyatta. I _understand,_ you know I do. I’m speaking to you as a friend, not a student. He would not want you to suffer in silence.”

 _Something_ came through the connection, a string of code that Genji had no way of deciphering, a quick burst that disappeared in an instant. _Mondatta,_ the name was hiccuped, stuttered over. It was punctuated with a further silence, then, _Did you feel it?_

“Yes. Not to the extent you did, I’m sure, but my dragon reacted to it.”

_It did not harm you?_

Genji flinched, frowned. “No, did it hurt you?”

_No, no. I still do not understand how the spirit you harbor reacts to the Iris, but you have always been more attuned to it than others. The Iris can consume a soul, and if you had accidentally touched it through your dragon in such a time, I fear the result._

“No, I’m fine. Are… you are alright, though?”

_I was not harmed, just overwhelmed momentarily. I am alright._

“Are you _sure?”_

_Genji, I promise. My soul is tired, but it is not due to the Iris._

Genji nodded to the room. “You didn’t answer my question.”

_I am coming to terms with it. Mondatta is one with the Iris now. We must heal._

“That still isn’t an answer, Master.”

Zenyatta paused, likely reviewing their conversation. _Everyone I meet assists me. They remind me of what my brother fought for, why he chose the road he did. He would not regret his decisions, and I have always respected them. And you,_ he continued, quieter. _I apologize if I caused you to worry._

“Don’t apologize. There is nothing to be sorry for, Master. You didn’t have to check in with me at all, but I’m glad you did. You don’t… you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to pretend to be okay, nor should you deny yourself your sorrow. Just… just please do not keep it to yourself if it becomes too much. All of your brothers and sisters back at the monastery would happily lend an ear, trust me. They hold no ill will towards you.”

_I know. They are wonderful, and I do miss them._

“So do I. But there are plenty who will listen. I’m always willing, Master.”

_You do not owe me that, Genji--_

“I know. This isn’t about what I owe or what I don’t. The offer is there for you, if you ever want to take it. Just take care of yourself. That’s what Master Mondatta would have wanted, more than anything.”

 _Thank you, Genji,_ his name warbled. _I will have to… to meditate on this. Perhaps… perhaps you will tell me about your travels sometime? It would set my soul at ease to speak with you again._

“Anytime,” Genji answered immediately. “Whenever you’d like.”

 _It’s been a long time, little sparrow,_ and Genji couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he hadn’t meant to say that, yet the nickname made his heart soar nonetheless. Zenyatta would be alright. Even if he wasn’t at the moment, he would be. And Genji would be there, if he needed stability. To think that he’d ever confidently label himself as stable…

“Master?”

_Yes, Genji?_

“Form is temporary.”

 _The spirit is eternal,_ Zenyatta finished, and Genji could almost see the brightening of his array, a soft omnic smile that made his faceplate glow. _We are all one within the Iris._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've written in a few years, and the first one I've ever posted on any site. As such, I'd greatly appreciate any feedback or criticism (constructive or otherwise) that you're willing to give  
> <3


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